Orange
by littlemisshamish
Summary: Dammit Mycroft. Sequel to Red.


_Roses are red_

_Violets are blue_

_You need to smile more often_

_Because I love you_

_Are we going to do this again?_

_You're not the only one who gets bored, Sherlock._

_And this is how you deal with it?_

_Yes. Problem?_

_We could have sex instead._

_We just had one._

_Roses are red_

_Violets are blue_

_How can I smile, my dear John_

_If you won't let me fuck you_

_Such vulgar language, Sherlock. Mummy will be displeased._

* * *

_Mycroft, what the hell were you doing in our flat? -SH_

_Also, stop chipping in on our conversations. -SH_

_Creep. -SH_

_Brother dear, I have a case for you. You will find it very interesting, I am sure. -MH_

_Go forth and have coitus with thyself. -SH_

_Such temper. Trouble in paradise? - MH_

_If your cameras are still here, you'll know that John and I are very happy. -SH_

_I don't know, Sherlock. Just the other night, you were kneeling in front of him. -MH_

_I was assuming you have done something wrong and was asking for forgiveness. -MH_

_I will buy a monkey and train it to slap you whenever you send a text. -SH_

_You can send a picture of yourself in the meantime. I would be unable to tell the difference anyway. -MH_

_Can you make fratricide legal? - SH_

_Don't you have something—or someone—better to do? -MH_

* * *

_Roses are red_

_Violets are blue_

_I hate Mycroft_

_Okay, good. That's a start, I guess. How about you make them rhyme?_

_Can't. Too busy plotting brother's demise._

_Too busy for me?_

_Roses are red_

_Violets are blue_

_Don't be silly, John_

_I will always have time for you_

_That's sweet. Here's mine:_

_Oranges are orange_

_Apples are red_

_Stop whining about Mycroft_

_Let's get back to bed_

"Your wish," Sherlock whispered, cupping John's arse and half-dragging him to their bedroom, "is my command."

* * *

"You are amazing," John pants.

"Of course," Sherlock replied, similarly out of breath but smiling. He rested his head on John's chest. John wrapped his arms around the detective's shoulders, planting a kiss on his hair.  
Sherlock's phone rang. It was Mycroft. He rejected the call.

"You're not going to answer that?"

"It's just Mycroft being a penis."

John chuckled and hugged him tighter. Sherlock hummed in contentment.

"He's not going to stop, you know."

Sherlock's phone beeped. A text.

"There you go."

Sherlock grunted and read the message out loud.

_John is right, Sherlock. I will not stop bothering you until you take the case. –MH_

"Bloody hell!" John snatched the blanket and covered their bodies, his eyes searching for a hidden camera.

_Not to worry, Doctor Watson. There are no cameras inside your bedrooms, only microphones. –MH_

John tried not to think about the noises he and Sherlock have been making. Tomorrow, he would tear down the bloody walls.

_Go find someone else to play with. –SH_

_This isn't a game, Sherlock. This is a matter of national security. –MH_

_What, did your rubber ducky get flushed down the toilet? –SH_

_Don't be absurd. Call me once you get dressed. –MH_

Sherlock did not get dressed. Instead, he busied himself with teasing John's nipples. He started with the left one. Kissing, licking, sucking, making John moan and fueling his desire. He should have been too exhausted by now, but he found himself getting harder.

Another text. Sherlock snarled, but left John's nipples to read it. John could not help but whimper.

_Unless Doctor Watson is pleasuring himself, you do not seem to be obeying me. –MH_

_If, however, the good doctor is indeed pleasuring himself, my apologies. Do carry on. –MH_

"Jesus," John muttered. The man is insane. More insane than Sherlock could possibly be. "Sherlock, just do as he says. Please."

All he got by way of response was a "hmph."

He stood up, naked, and bent over to pick up his clothes from the floor. John couldn't help but admire the perfection of his behind. He started wondering if perhaps he should just forget about Sherlock's voyeuristic brother and continue where they left off.

Sherlock, however, was almost dressed, so screw that.

"Do you want me to come with you?" He wanted to, but his body was betraying him—his eyes were beginning to droop and his back seemed glued to the bed.

Sherlock took one look at him and said, "No, just sleep there or write your blog or whatever. I'm sure this is a boring case anyway. Mycroft probably forgot where he put his chocolate cake."

_My chocolate cake is in a safe place, thank you very much. –MH_

"Hm. Looks like he has already eaten it."

They burst out laughing and only stopped when Mycroft sent another text.

_How lovely to see that you haven't yet lost your senseless humour. The car is waiting, Sherlock. –MH_

_And no, I haven't yet eaten it. –MH_

"I should get going. The sooner this ends, the better. I'll text you."

"All right," John replied, reaching out to pull Sherlock towards him once more. He kissed his forehead. "Keep safe."

"I will."

And he was out the door.

* * *

_The case was boring_

_I bet Mycroft was just lonely_

_Get the bed and your arse ready_

_I'm coming home, and I'm really really horny x -SH_


End file.
